


Snowballs

by Warks1999



Series: Our Favourite Eejits [6]
Category: Derry Girls (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:29:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27998298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warks1999/pseuds/Warks1999
Summary: Christmas may have peaked but the weather had not, leaving the gang plenty of time to socialise...Part 6 of Our Favourite Eejits
Relationships: James Maguire/Erin Quinn
Series: Our Favourite Eejits [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2045833
Comments: 8
Kudos: 13





	Snowballs

Snowballs 27th December 1995.

Snow again graced the streets of Derry. Thick snow blanket covered every street two days after Christmas and the whole city sat under a cover of white silence. Some workplaces didn’t bother opening, the hassle for staff to get in to work safely and on time deemed too much. Families spent more time together and friends got the chance to socialise without the constraints of their daily lives. And young people could roam free in the white wonderland. For five particular young people it was paradise.

“Can ye explain the plan again Michelle”. Clare mumbled from beneath the scarf wrapped up around her face.

“First of all, yer taking that fucking scarf off before someone thinks you’re a Provo”. Michelle started, completing the action of removing the scarf before Clare could protest.

“Better. Right, we’re heading to Dennis’s first to keep Orla happy”.

“Until I get my pick n mix, I am going nowhere”. Orla chirped in from her right-hand side. Michelle just rolled her eyes.

“Then, you fucko’s are gunna watch me back while I go and get this shit from the O’Neill sisters. Piece of piss”.

Piece of piss. Orla may not have known or cared either way, but Clare knew that the ease at which Michelle spoke of the deal weighed in at farfetched at its best. The O’Neill sisters were trouble. A whole heap of trouble. The oldest of the clan, Tara, spent her time in prison, convicted of theft and assault. Katherine and Margaret, the two Michelle confirmed earlier to be the ones she was meeting, were known for fighting and causing trouble. A lovely family. They were also known for supplying goods that were not destined for retailers. Or they were… at one time.

“The O’Neill sisters… ye I’m not sure about that Michelle”.

“Well I am Clare. Can ye not shit yourself for five minutes and just play along”. She growled, before raising her voice slightly. “And you two better be behaving back there or I swear…”.

James and Erin were in the first week of their relationship and already Michelle took to daily warnings to keep them in line. With Michelle, so much as talking about anything outside of their normal conversation would set her off, even if she was happy for them… in her own way. Allowing them to walk behind the rest of them without being able to see what they were up to was the limit of Michelle’s trust and even then, it came with regular check-ups.

“We’ve not broken the Michelle Mallon code of practice yet”. James called back to the still unmoved Michelle in front.

They were allowed to hold hands under the rules and James’s big warm glove settled over Erin’s soft leather one. Keeping their relationship secretive from the rest of Derry was an unrealistic aim but they agreed they would let go once they got closer to the centre, where more people could eyeball them, and word could spread. Luckily, only a few cars had passed them since they set off and they were yet to pass anyone else on foot other than an old woman that none of them knew. The deception wouldn’t last, the game would be up when they returned to school, but there was a rush to the almost forbidden nature of what they held.

A perfect romance.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Having redeemed their status with Dennis, a few battles during the month left it in the balance until Granda Joe intervened on their behalf, they made their way into his deserted shop. Dennis sighed. He needed more customers, the appalling weather putting pay to some of his trade, but did it have to be them? Of all the schoolkids he let in the shop, the five of them were the ones that drove him up the wall the most. Secretly, he kept a tally of how many times he’d kicked them out of the shop. If they were to face the boot again today, it would be number sixteen.

Orla regressed into her own world, rubbing her temples as she tried to get her combination of sweets to the perfection she desired. Clare was trying to be of assistance but failing miserably and Michelle spent her time looking at the booze. A useless idea when Dennis knew how old they were.

“Done?” He asked Orla, having heard her shout something about ‘This is it’.

“Aye Dennis, there ye are”.

For the first time in the history of them coming to the shop, one of them actually paid him the correct amount of money for something they bought. It was quite frightening.

“How much for the football Dennis?”

Dennis looked at Michelle like she was from another planet. Saying that, the others were too. As far as any of them were aware, Michelle wasn’t into football.

“Twenty pounds”.

The football was… rather basic. It didn’t look used at least, but even without a knowledge of the game, Michelle would not be fooled into paying that.

“Twenty pounds? Wise up Dennis”.

“If ye shut up and go, I’ll make it eighteen”.

“Eighteen? Has the fucking pope kissed it or something?”. Michelle continued to argue.

“Come on Michelle, let’s just go”. Erin tried to persuade her, to no avail.

“It was the ball used in the last World Cup final”.

It was Dennis’ turn to receive funny looks. His nervous demeanour and awkward shifting as he spoke did nothing to hide the complete shite he was talking.

“Really? And… who won that World Cup Dennis?”

“Well…everyone knows…it… it was Italy”.

“Dicko?” Michelle looked back to James.

“It was Brazil actually”. James smiled. “Shall we say five Dennis?”

“GET OUT!!!!!”

James made it number sixteen for the gang with Dennis. Granda Joe would have plenty of fun mending the damages of the latest argument upon his next visit.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

“Well done dickface”.

Michelle rounded on James the moment they got out of the shop. There would never be a time when it was Michelle’s fault of course.

“It’s not his fault Michelle”. Erin defended her partner.

“Keep ye fecking knickers on Erin, Dicko can answer for himself”.

Erin blushed and looked away, a satisfied Michelle grinning wickedly at her. Clare gave Michelle a slap on the wrist, bringing her back out of the grin to glare back at her friend, who stood with a defiant look on her face.

“Why did you want a football anyway? James asked his cousin.

“So I can throw it at yer fuckin’ head every morning to wake ye up”. Michelle replied, turning away from Clare. “Why do you think ye prick? I wanted it so we can play football”.

“You want to play football?”

“Ye. You keep sayin’ how good ye were back in England, time you fucking proved it”.

In hindsight, James regretted telling Michelle about his old football team. Back in the days before Derry, football was the main source of entertainment other than Doctor Who in an otherwise dull home life for him. His old team were the best in the local area, winners of the league at different age categories for three seasons in a row. Until he got kicked out. With even further hindsight, telling them all how that occurred had been a mistake too. Granted, there were far more embarrassing incidents in Derry since, but breaking the frame of the goal whilst trying to rescue a little bird that looked to be struggling to fly was far from the thrilling story that they expected.

“And we don’t have a proper goal so you can’t fuckin’ snap the bar this time”.

“Can’t play in thick snow though can we?” He put across to her smugly.

“You get up on the wrong side? When it melts ye dose! Then ye can show us how ye kept scoring all those goals”.

James sighed. She either hadn’t listened, the most likely, or understood when he talked about the team with her.

“I didn’t score the goals, I kept them out Michelle. I was the goalie”.

“Oooh, hear that Erin, he’s good with his hands”.

The devilish wink she gesticulated caused Erin and James’s cheeks to inflame, with Clare again having to step in to stop an overly pleased with herself Michelle from going any further and humiliating the two of them.

“I think it’ll be cracker”. She addressed them all. “You’ll enjoy it won’t ye Orla?... Orla?... Orla?”

“Where’s Orla?” James frowned.

Erin would be hung, drawn and quartered if she managed to lose her cousin out in this weather. Orla was not to be left unaccompanied, a point her mother made very clear at least once or twice a week. They all turned out of their huddle and looked around for her. But before they could spot their missing friend, Michelle let out an unheard-of squeal and they turned their heads to her and began to snigger.

“SNOWBALL FIGHT!”

Orla, crouched in the little park next to the shop, shouted across at them. Whilst they had argued between themselves, Orla found her chance to get an advantage on them for the fight and caught an unsuspecting Michelle by surprise. In a mere second, Clare was lifted off her feet into the air and forced forward towards the park entrance.

“Michelle! MICHELLE! PUT ME DOWN!” She screamed.

“Nothing personal Clare, but ye make a good shield”.

“A GOOD SHIELD!” Clare shrieked. “I SWEAR TO G- OOF. ORLA! STOP IT!”

James chuckled to himself of the scene of Michelle advancing into the park, with Clare held up in front of her face taking every shot from the unrepentant Orla. Bending down to pick up a snowball of his own, he saw a snow covered, gloved hand far too late and his cheeks turned icy as he was covered in it.

Erin.

She ran away, looking back at him full of giggles, enticing the wee English fella into a chase across the park. There was no doubt he would either; he couldn’t let her get away with that. The distance between them shortened very quickly and he began giggling too, picking Erin up and spinning her in the air. The wonderous love shone back off their irises. It may have been early in their relationship, but the feelings of completion hadn’t left either of them since the night they admitted their love for each other. But there would always be slip ups.

Literally.

At the most inopportune moment, James lost his footing and twisted over clumsily with an undignified yelp. Erin went over with him, somehow ending up hitting the snowy drift with her back first. James followed and landed right on top of her, just shy of actually crushing his girlfriend due to the fortunate placing of his hands. _Talk about fortunate accidents…_

“Oh…”. James murmured as their eyes met before dropping to a far gravellier tone. “Hello”.

OOF

“OI! Off”.

The source of the snowball and the complaint was Michelle and for good reason too. They looked likely to break at least rule number one of the Michelle Mallon code of practice, if not going on in the direction of rule two. Orla hurled a second one that smacked him right in the face and Erin’s laughter picked up again as Clare too joined in the assault on the Englishman. Before long, it was four vs one and he was being annihilated.

\-------------------------------------------------------

Surveying the scene of Derry’s five greatest young eejits, Gerry smiled from ear to ear. He remembered the snowball fights of his youth, the freedom of being young and carefree in the halcyon days. The days before expectations and commitments, children and work, wife and… father-in law.

For a moment he pondered being in Joe’s position himself. Gerry would not be like Joe at all, at least he didn’t think he would be, but then did Joe set out with the mentality he had? He doubted he would have long to decide it though. There was just something about the young Englishman that appeared in their lives, and more importantly his Erin’s, that made Gerry see himself. James was Gerry twenty years or so prior. Everything about him screamed of familiarity. There was little doubt in his mind that James was the-

OOF

“Stop staring at the wains ye snowy shite!”.

_Thanks for that Joe…_

**Author's Note:**

> After two shorter stories, a multi-chaptered Part 7 should arrive Sunday/Monday :)


End file.
